


Flying

by Spikedluv



Category: Jericho (US 2006)
Genre: Community: smallfandomflsh, First Time, M/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-01
Updated: 2011-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-15 07:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake goes to work for Jonah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after Jake graduates high school; I created a teensy bit of Jake back story for this fic. Written for the Small Fandoms Flashfic Challenge #10: Intoxication.
> 
> Written: September 10, 2008

There was something about Jonah Prowse that had always fascinated Jake. Maybe it was the fact that as far as Emily was concerned he didn’t exist, or the fact that every time his name came up Jake’s father’s face twisted up in disapproval. Whatever the reason, when Jake had graduated high school and Johnston Green started making noises about the fact that he hadn’t yet applied to college, nor did he have a job outside of helping his grandpa with the occasional crop dusting, Jake had driven out to Quaker Freight and asked Jonah for a job.

Jonah had just raised his eyebrows and looked Jake over (which gave Jake shivers, though he didn’t understand it at the time), then disappeared back under the hood of the diesel he was working on. “Why should I hire you?” Jonah asked, his voice muffled by the engine.

“Because I’m good with a wrench,” Jake said, unfazed by the question. “I helped my grandpa rebuild a car engine when I was twelve and I’ve been working on planes since I was thirteen.”

Jonah turned back around and looked at Jake. “Lotta guys can turn a wrench. Why should I piss off Johnston Green by hiring his son?”

Jake grinned. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

Jonah made a sound that might have been a laugh, then pointed to a car sitting in the bay behind Jake. “Tell me what’s wrong with that car and you’ve got yourself a job.”

Jake spent hours checking fluids and hoses and plugs and belts and wires, and then he finally started the car up and took it for a test drive around the lot. He pulled it back into the bay, got out and carefully closed the door, then glared at Jonah. “There’s nothing wrong with this car.”

“I know,” Jonah said, his smile almost blinding, “she’s mine. Eight o’clock, don’t be late.”

*~*~*

Jake had been working at Quaker Freight for several months before he finally figured out what his fascination for Jonah Prowse meant. Why the sound of Jonah’s voice could make his belly twist, how a squeeze to the back of his neck could make his brain shut down and his tongue get all tangled up in his mouth.

He’d been twelve the first time he’d snuck a can of beer out of the refrigerator and shared it with Stanley in the back yard under the stars, backs pressed up against the rough bark of the old red maple. When they’d finished it, he’d felt lightheaded and there was a tickle in his stomach. Years later he compared it with flying. Until the first time he’d had one too many and puked all over Emily’s mother’s porch.

Which was exactly how he felt now, his belly churning with nausea as he contemplated his next move. He’d seen the way Jonah had been looking at him. It was the reason Jake had finally twigged to his own feelings. Part of him felt like an idiot for having missed it, but another part of him assured himself it was perfectly natural to have missed it, since he’d never had those feelings for another guy before. Especially someone like Jonah; older, more experienced if not wiser, harder.

Jake was bent over the car when Jonah entered the garage. Even as he said, “It’s late, Jake, what are you still doing here?” Jake could feel Jonah’s eyes raking over his body and he suddenly felt very hot.

“Just wanted to finish this up,” Jake said. “Everything seems to be taking me twice as long today.” Which wasn’t a lie, he’d been all thumbs and fumble fingers since he’d decided that tonight was the night he was going to seduce Jonah. Logically it made sense -- there were no deliveries expected and it was half price night at Bailey’s so everyone would be leaving on time -- and emotionally, well, Jake wasn’t sure if he could wait much longer, seeing Jonah every day and thinking about him every night.

“Shit,” Jake swore softly as the wrench slipped out of his fingers.

“What’s wrong?” Jonah said, and he was suddenly right there beside Jake, hips and foreheads brushing as he leaned over the engine.

“Dropped the wrench,” Jake said, twisting so he could wriggle his hand down between the car’s internal bits, tips of his fingers grasping for the wrench until he finally captured it and pulled it out, holding it up victoriously and smiling at Jonah.

But when he turned his head Jake caught something on Jonah’s face, an expression that gave Jake hope that he wasn’t making a huge mistake, hadn’t misread all the looks and touches, and he just went for it, leaned forward and pressed his lips to Jonah’s.

Jonah held very still, as if he was afraid to make the wrong move, and then he pulled back, said, “Jake . . . .”

But Jake had seen how hard it had been for Jonah to not kiss him back, to pull away, and he didn’t let Jonah finish whatever he was going to say. Instead he curled one arm around Jonah’s neck and kissed him again, and this time Jonah grabbed hold of him and pushed him back against the car until their chests, their hips were pressed together. The wrench slipped out of Jake’s fingers again and clattered to the cement floor, and Jake brought that hand up and buried his fingers in Jonah’s hair.

“You know what you’re doing, Jake?” Jonah asked, his normally gravelly voice even rougher as it slid down Jake’s spine and twisted around the base before lodging in his belly.

“What I want to,” Jake said, “what I’ve _been_ wanting to.”

Jonah smashed their lips together as he got a hand between them, worked the buckle on Jake’s belt. Jake felt molten, like he would melt away if Jonah didn’t touch him soon. He moaned into Jonah’s mouth as his hands tightened their hold on the back of Jonah’s head, his shoulder, and he tried to push into Jonah’s hand, desperate for friction. The sound of his zipper being lowered was loud in Jake’s ears, but it was drowned out by the whimper when Jonah shoved his hands inside Jake’s shorts and finally touched him.

“Oh god, Jonah.”

“This what you need, Jake?” Jonah asked as he stroked.

And it was, it was exactly what he needed, what he’d been dreaming of, all that and more, and when Jonah latched onto Jake’s neck, sucking and biting his mark onto Jake’s skin, Jake cried out and flew apart as he exploded, come spattering his grease stained t-shirt and Jonah’s hand as Jonah continued to milk him until Jake couldn’t take it anymore.

Jonah kissed him as Jake sagged against the car, the cool metal against his lower back and ass where his jeans and shorts had slipped down, and the hard heat of Jonah’s body against his front the only things holding him up.

When Jake finally floated back down to earth he felt Jonah moving against him, and when Jake broke the kiss and looked down, he saw that Jonah had pushed his own jeans and shorts down and was beating off as he rubbed against Jake, using Jake’s come to lubricate his cock.

Jake dropped his hand from Jonah’s shoulder. “Let me,” he said as he pushed Jonah’s hand away and wrapped his fingers around Jonah’s dick. It felt strangely familiar and foreign at the same time.

Jonah moaned and pushed into Jake’s hand as Jake experimentally squeezed and stroked. Jake looked up at Jonah’s face to see that he was staring intently at his cock as it slid through Jake’s fist.

“Harder,” Jonah said, and then he groaned as he closed his own fingers around Jake’s, squeezed harder, stroked faster as he pumped into their joined fists. He stiffened against Jake and came over their fingers, fluid spattering Jake’s t-shirt to join the come already drying there.

“You know what this means now, don’t you, Jake?” Jonah said as he pressed two fingers to Jake’s mouth.

Jake automatically parted his lips and sucked the come off Jonah’s fingers, the taste bitter and salty, and then Jonah leaned in and licked the taste out of his mouth.

“You’re mine now, and I don’t share.”

The words, the tone they were spoken in, shivered down Jake’s spin. All he could think about was how free he felt when he was flying, head spinning and belly twisting as if he was drunk, and wondered how soon they’d be able to do it again.

The End


End file.
